Mood: blank I guess you could say I'm stressed out to a very high degree. Things were moving along splendidly until my mom decided that placidity is no way to plan a wedding. After all, what are wedding preparations without someone acting like a tool? In fact, tool is putting it way too mildly. I'd say that "complete bitch" is much more appropriate. I've never been in such anticipation to get the fuck out of this house before. I can't take it anymore. With each passing day, I realize more and more that my mom brings out the worst in me. Some people have that effect and it's unfortunate that it has to be my mother. She called Pete's and my wedding plans an "embarassment". Strong word for such a vacant mind. I told her to keep her money because it's not wanted. This wedding isn't about who holds the golden stave and who doesn't. It's not an exhibition in power and might. It's a wedding, with two people proclaiming their love for each other as they move onto the next step of commitment. It's a simple concept, but it's understandable that such concepts aren't interpreted correctly by someone like my mother. People keep telling me to "wait until you move out, you'll find that you become closer with your parents". But to me, it's almost like telling the Jews and Arabs to just get along. It's just not happening. See, the problem with my mother is that she has to make every little thing about her. She is a human manifestation of Copernicus heliocentric theory. But right now, I must go. Pete and I are going to drop off some pay stubs at the apartment we applied for.
Motherfucker of the bride
10:35 a.m.//08.12.06
Sound: Secadas buzzing outside
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